


Last Stop, White City

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:57:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12494816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Fifty years since returning home, Ian and Barbara recreate their first ever date.





	Last Stop, White City

Ian looked at his wife as he entered the bedroom with a breakfast tray. She was always so peaceful when she slept. Sometimes she’d sleep with her mouth open, but in the morning when she seemed to be having a pleasant dream, her mouth would shut firmly and her eyelids would flutter and twitch. He always liked it when he woke up first because he loved sitting beside her and watching her wake up. Barbara was nearly eighty years old, he was a little older, and they’d barely been apart in almost fifty years. 

The sound of the door closing behind him awoke Barbara and she smiled at her husband as he settled the tray down on the bed beside her.

“Happy fiftieth homecoming anniversary,” he said. “Fifty years ago today we arrived home in that Dalek ship and even shared our first proper kiss.”

Barbara smiled and rubbed her weary eyes as she sat up and motioned for Ian to sit beside her. He lifted the tray onto her lap and climbed onto the bed. He grabbed one of the toast soldiers and dipped it in the runny egg and began munching. She swatted his hand away.

“Cheeky,” she said. “I get first dibs.”

She proceeded to spread some butter and jam onto a slice of brown bread toast and looked quickly at Ian. “I had one of those dreams again. The Doctor was different this time.”

“How do you mean?”

“He had a different face again. He was an older gentleman, not quite as old as our Doctor, but he was grey, and wise, but very modern and fashionable.”

“The Doctor fashionable, surely not?”

“He was coming out of the TARDIS and walking along the surface of an alien world, and well…that’s when I woke up.”

“Well I guess there’s no telling what he looks like these days, he could have changed again, and it’s just a dream, nothing in it. Still, it must be nice to take the old body in for an MOT when it’s knackered, quick service and come out completely new and healthy.”

“What did they call it when he changes his face? Re-charging?” she asked as she took another bite from the crunchy toast. 

Ian laughed. “You make it sound like they plug him into the wall.”

Barbara frowned, desperately trying to remember the name. “Well it was ‘re’ something.”

“Rejuvenation?”

“That sounds like they’re sending him in for a quick spa treatment.”

“Re-servicing?” he added.

Barbara laughed. “Now he really does sound like an old car.”

“Renewing?”

“Well…something like that.”

“That’s going to drive me mad all day,” Ian said. “But never mind, I have a surprise for you.”

…

Ian and Barbara travelled up the escalators at Charing Cross tube station and Ian helped his wife with her bags at the entrance. It was a mild but sunny day much like it had been when they’d been there fifty years earlier. Barbara led the way from the station as they made their way to Trafalgar Square. 

“This was a lovely idea of yours, Ian,” Barbara said as she grabbed his hand. “Revisiting our first date all those years ago.”

“Of course I’m less nervous this time,” he said straightening his wispy white hair that had become messy in the slight breeze. “That time I was apprehensive about making my first move.”

She giggled. “And you didn’t, I made it for you.”

“Yes, alright Barbara, you’re right. Shall we go relive the past?”

…

Barbara sat down on the wall next to the fountain in Trafalgar Square and placed her fingers into the bright blue water. She felt the cool liquid caress her fingers and she cheekily splashed a few droplets onto Ian who had squeezed in next to her beside a whole load of tourists with backpacks and mobile phones capturing exciting moments on their holidays. 

“That’s an idea,” Ian said getting out his mobile phone. “I could recreate some of the memories with my camera phone. Maybe we could do one of those selfies that the kids do, and do some twittering.”

Barbara laughed. “You know full well it’s tweeting.”

He stood up and asked Barbara to stand up too. He positioned her so there was a nice view behind her and aimed the phone at her, ready to take a picture. He stopped and scratched his head. “No pigeons on your head this time.”

“No pigeons anywhere anymore,” she replied. “Never mind, just take it.”  
She let out her biggest grin as she heard the click of Ian’s camera phone. “Got it, perfect,” he said proudly. “We can put these online later.”

“What about our little escapade with the lion over there?” she asked. “Last time it tried to eat my hand, remember?”

Ian nodded and this time they walked to the lion, no longer able to run and dash about the way they had done in the 1960’s. Back then they’d agreed to have a little race to see who could get there first, but called it a draw after Ian’s path was disrupted by a boy on a bicycle. This time they arrived together and Ian helped his wife onto the platform, the arthritis in her knee making it a little difficult. 

Ian called down to a local business man and asked him to take a photograph as he and Barbara got into position next to the lion’s mouth. Barbara placed her hand inside and Ian grabbed on, pretending he was rescuing her from its snarling jaws. The businessman smiled as he took the photo and handed the phone back to Ian.

“That’s a good one,” he said to the couple. 

They had roped a tourist into taking their picture standing on the edge of the fountain. As they raised their arms in the air like aeroplanes, Ian stood behind his wife and their arms pointed in the opposite direction from each other. They’d done the exact same thing in 1965. 

…

After their time in Trafalgar Square, the couple made their way to the park to recreate their giddy run through the trees. They couldn’t remember exactly what they’d gotten up to all those years ago, their memories had somewhat forgotten the little elements, but they both could remember the way they fooled about by the tree trunks and branches, just running around rejoicing as a couple in love- well not yet a couple, but certainly in love. They had been so happy to be home that their sadness at their sudden departure from the Doctor and Vicki had been pushed aside for a while, moved into the back of their minds along with the other things they’d said goodbye to. 

Ian pretended to lift Barbara in the air, in reality only holding her right leg inches off the ground. The young woman who offered to take some photographs of them was smiling and clapping as the old couple posed in a variety of silly positions. Ian stuck his tongue out several times and Barbara flapped her arms about pretending to be a fish. They even hugged the tree so that their hands reached each other’s on the other side. The trunk was wide, too wide, and their fingers didn’t quite reach in the middle.

“Oh no!” Ian shouted. “It’s much too far, I can’t reach you!”

Barbara laughed at Ian’s overreaction as he pretended he was in some sort of disaster film and hanging onto the tree for dear life as he desperately tried to grab her fingers.

Barbara let go of the tree. “Alright Ian, don’t overdo it.”

…

The next stop on the date was their stroll along the Thames Embankment. Barbara didn’t feel up to running and jumping along like she had done when she was young, but hand in hand with Ian she had the feeling she was running anyway, her heart was certainly beating with excitement. She suddenly felt the youth flow back in her as she looked at Ian’s smiling face, and sensed the soft breeze tickle her rosy cheeks. 

“No police box this time!” Ian said as he looked along the busy walkway. 

“Guess we’ll have to leave out that part,” Barbara said, suddenly overcome with emotion.

Ian rubbed her arm. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh it’s just I started thinking about the Doctor, and Susan, and Vicki.”

“Me too,” he told her. He linked his arm through hers and suggested they catch a bus to their last destination. Ian was beginning to lag, he was admittedly quite sprightly for his eighty or so years, but a long day in the sunshine tired him out a lot easier than it used to. 

…

They missed their bus as Barbara’s knee began to stiffen and Ian folded out her walking stick. He laughed as he teased her about it.

“Look what you’ve done now!” he said, nudging her playfully. “We’ll have to wait for another one!”

“I’m sure ten minutes won’t kill you,” she replied nudging him back in the ribs.

When the next bus came, they squabbled about who got on first and then they argued further about where to sit. When they finally agreed and took a seat near the front, Ian placed his arm around the seat.

“Certainly no ‘two threes’ on this bus,” he said reaching into his pocket and pulling out his oyster card. “All on a card these days.”

Barbara smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Alright, selfie time,” he said positioning the camera in front of the two of them and getting ready to take it. Barbara neatened her hair and the two of them tried not to bump one another as they shuffled about and leaned in cheek to cheek with big goofy grins. Ian took the picture and then excitedly turned the phone around to check the result. They both burst into hysterical laughter at the photo of Barbara smiling and Ian’s head chopped off at the top.

“Maybe it’s an improvement,” Ian said laughing. “Looks rather avant-garde eh?”

“No it looks like your head was sliced at the top like Thomas Becket!” she said attempting to delete the picture. Ian shook her away claiming he thought it was amusing. 

“I happen to like your whole head, the same one I’ve been admiring fifty years,” she said touching his cheek gently. 

He took her hand and stroked it softly and then gave in to her demand. “Alright, we’ll take another one, but I’m keeping the head sliced one too, just for fun.”

“Cheese!”

…

As the bus made its way to the end of the road, Ian and Barbara got up from their seats and headed off the bus as it stopped at the side of the street. Ian squinted in the sunlight and smiled.

“Last stop, White City,” he said pointing at their location. 

“I never would have guessed,” she said, as she passed the sign of the White City tube station.

“Fifty years ago today we arrived home in that direction as the Dalek time ship exploded behind us.”

Ian peered at one of the parked cars and smiled at the tax disc on the windscreen which told them it expired December 2015. “Not much changes, just the date,” he said.

“Except the Doctor,” Barbara added as they sat down on a bench a few metres away. “He always changes.”

“Re….re….re-animation?”

“Registration?” Barbara laughed. “Oh what is it?”

They both looked around them, hoping it would give them some inspiration.   
“Oh never mind,” he said. “The only ‘re’ that is important today was ‘recreating’ our first ever date.”

Barbara leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “Looks like I’m making the first move again.”


End file.
